


Penance

by TheEloquentDecadent



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Femdom, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Polyamory, Spanking, Sub Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 08:15:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5368049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEloquentDecadent/pseuds/TheEloquentDecadent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is still in uniform when he gets to the house, keys dangling from his fingertips and head dangling from his shoulders. Chris ushers him inside without question or comment, easing his coat off and unbuckling his utility belt.</p><p>"Let me get you undressed, then you can go in to Victoria," Chris says softly as he unbuttons Stiles' shirt and opens his fly. "Just a few more minutes and everything will be okay, I promise."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Penance

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr prompt: "omg i love femdoms. but totally adore dom couples or multiple doms, especially hetero couples. You probably follow workneverover but they have amazing femdom stuff. And the tag of my heart: multiple-doms. If you're still taking prompts, may I please request Stiles being dommed and taken apart by Chris and Victoria Argent, something really emotional in the no one dies AU? Thank you!"

Stiles is still in uniform when he gets to the house, keys dangling from his fingertips and head dangling from his shoulders. Chris ushers him inside without question or comment, easing his coat off and unbuckling his utility belt.

"Let me get you undressed, then you can go in to Victoria," Chris says softly as he unbuttons Stiles' shirt and opens his fly. "Just a few more minutes and everything will be okay, I promise."

Chris can feel the tension trapped in Stiles' muscles as he eases him out of his clothes, and he wants to ask what happened. What made Stiles so quiet, what wound him tight?

He doesn't ask. That's not why Stiles is here.

"Scott knows you're here?" He asks, pressing a soft kiss to each of Stiles' shaking hands.

Stiles shakes his head with a wince.

"I'll let him know," Chris says immediately. "I'll tell him, don't worry. Just focus on the moment."

Stiles nods, still not making eye contact. Chris gets him undressed and grabs his collar from the hall table.

"Safeword?"

"Nemeton," Stiles rasps out.

"Color?"

"Green." He hesitates, finally looking up with bloodshot eyes. "Please, Chris--"

"Hush, love. I've got you." Chris carefully buckles the collar on, testing it more by habit than necessity. "There we are, all ready."

"Can I have a kiss, sir?"

"You may." Chris kisses him, just a brief taste of what's to come. "I need to finish making dinner, so you go and keep Victoria company. Maybe she'll let you pick something for us to play with tonight."

Stiles nods and turns to walk into the living room. There are some new bruises along his back, coloring the myriad of scars from years of fighting evil-- supernatural and otherwise.

Chris never did approve of Stiles becoming a deputy, but the man's drive to make things right is better channeled in police work than in hunting. Scott approves, so Chris stays out of it.

After tonight, though, they may have to have a family meeting about Stiles' work.

"That's it, pet. On your knees, head on my leg. Just close your eyes." Victoria's voice is soothing and commanding, placating and demanding, perfect.

Stiles sobs, loud enough for Chris to hear it in the kitchen. Victoria is probably scratching his scalp with her nails, just enough pleasure-pain to get him to start going under.

"That's it, pet. Let it out. You're safe here, I promise."

Chris calls Scott, brings him up to speed.

"I thought he'd go to you," Scott says, exhaustion heavy in his voice. "Jordan called, said something about a civilian caught in the cross fire. He'll tell us the whole story when he's ready."

"We need to have a family meeting," Chris says gruffly. "He can't keep coming home like this."

"I think Jordan is planning on putting him on leave for a few weeks, mandatory therapy and rest. It will give us time to think things over." Scott sighs. "Give our boy a kiss for me, and tell him I'll be home when he's ready."

"I will. Good night, Scott."

"Good night, Chris."

Victoria and Stiles move into the dining room as Chris finishes dinner, throwing some plain chicken from lunch into the microwave for a minute or two. Lasagna doesn't hand feed well, so the chicken and vegetables will have to do.

"Do you want me or Chris to feed you, love?" Victoria's gaze flicks to Chris. "Or we could take turns, like last time."

"Both," Stiles whispers. "Please."

Chris sits at the head of the table, Victoria to his right, and Stiles kneels on his soft cushion between them. As the meal goes on, they alternate between the two, making sure Stiles gets enough food in the process.

"...and so I think Lydia is going to propose to Allison within the month. She wouldn't ask my opinion on rings otherwise." Victoria looks down at Stiles, smiling softly. "Open your eyes, pet. You have a few more bites."

He opens his eyes and mouth obediently, licking her fingertips to get all of the chicken off of them.

"Good boy."

Chris doesn't pay much attention to the dinner conversation, worried about their boy and his headspace. Planning the scene that will follow dinner. Sensory deprivation, maybe. Handcuffs and a massage, perhaps. No pain, not tonight, unless he really needs it.

"Stiles, go with Chris to the bedroom," Victoria says firmly. "I'm going to put the leftovers away and join you in a few minutes."

Clear instructions and explanations are crucial. After the lives they've lived, no one really likes surprises.

Stiles follows Chris to the bedroom, sinking to his knees when Chris sits on the bed.

"Do you have any requests tonight?" Chris asks, running his fingers through Stiles' hair. "I can't promise they'll happen, but I want to know."

"Cane me," Stiles says immediately. "Please, I need it, please cane me, sir."

Red flag.

"Why?"

Stiles shakes his head, lips closed tightly. Chris just sighs and gathers the man into his arms.

"I don't punish you without cause," Chris reminds him gently. "Do you want to tell me why you want the cane?”

"No." Stiles hides his face in Chris' neck. "No, but, please just--"

"We have rules for a reason, pet. We're doing this my way."

"Yes sir." Stiles snuggles closer, wincing when he twists the wrong way. "Just, please, _something_."

Chris ghosts his hand over Stiles' broad back, wishing he could draw the pain away. Massage it is, then.

"How do you feel about sensory deprivation? Blindfold, a gag…"

"No ear plugs," Stiles says immediately. "Yes, but no ear plugs."

"I can work with that." Chris gently lays him out on the bed. "Color?"

"Green." Stiles looks up at him, exhaustion written over his features. "Green, sir."

Chris tweaks a nipple for the lapse of protocol, but it isn't remotely a punishment. Just a reminder, something to ground him in the moment. Victoria slips into the bedroom, easing off her heels and hose with a sigh.

"It's so nice to have our boy in our bed again," she says, unzipping her dress and passing it to Chris. He hangs it up dutifully, bringing her the nightshirt she favors for scenes like this. "He's so beautiful, right where he belongs."

"And he's so good for coming to us," Chris agrees, shedding his jeans and peeling off his t-shirt. They aren't going for tough, not tonight. "It's good to know we're trusted."

Stiles whimpers. Dark whiskey eyes flick between the two of them as he gnaws on his bottom lip. Victoria eases his lip from between his teeth.

"It's our job to mark you, love. Don't get ahead of yourself." Victoria fishes the restraints up from the corners of the bed, attaching the velcro cuffs to Stiles' wrists. "You can get out of these easily," she reminds him, "but I expect you to stay put. What do you say if you need out?”

"Yellow or red, ma'am, depending on what's happening in my head."

Stiles gets a kiss for his answer.

"Good boy." She kisses his forehead before turning to Chris. "What have you decided?"

He hands her one of their blindfolds and the smaller of the ball gags, enough to keep Stiles quiet and grounded without straining his jaw or testing his endurance. Victoria checks in with Stiles before she slides the blindfold on and eases the ball gag into his mouth.

"Beautiful," she murmurs, running her thumb over his bottom lip. "Count backwards from fifty while Chris and I talk."

"Fi-hty," Stiles mumbles around the ball gag. "Fohty-nhn. Fohty-eih."

"What are we going to do with him?" Victoria asks quietly. She slides down the bed, keeping her hand on Stiles' ankle. "He's a mess, and, masochist or not, I'm not hurting him when he's like this."

"I think if we just touch him for a while, ground him in the moment, he may be able to reach subspace without much pain. We just have to get him to focus, to give up control for a while." Chris bends down to kiss her. "Do you want me to take point on this? You can lead next time he needs the pain."

"I'm fine with that." Victoria tugs him down for another kiss. "You're better at being soft."

"That's why we're a team."

"Thuty-foh, thuty-ee, thuty-oo, thuty-un, thuhty…"

 

…

 

By the time Stiles has gotten to one, some of the tension has melted out of his body. He presses into Victoria's touch, straining to hear where Chris went.

"Easy, love." Victoria runs a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. "He's coming right back."

Chris comes back in with a handful of toys from the freezer and a couple bottles of water.

"I'm here," he announces pointedly, setting everything on the dresser. "I'm back, so the real fun can begin."

He hands Victoria the ice-cold pinwheel and settles at Stiles' side to enjoy the show. Victoria rolls it up the sensitive planes of Stiles' abdomen, over his sternum, across each of his pecs. Stiles whines with every new movement, his nipples pebbling beautifully.

"Just focus on us," Victoria says soothingly. "On the moment.”

Stiles nods, hips twitching as she runs it back down his V. He stills when Chris lays a hand on him, moan muffled through the gag.

"Be patient, pet. We'll give you what you need."

The next step is nipple clamps, the rude clover pair that live in the freezer for moments just like this. Stiles' groan is loud even through the gag, and he struggles to hold still as the pain shoots through his chest.

"Beautiful." Victoria tugs gently at the chain, smirking at Stiles' strangled gasp. "You're so responsive."

Chris runs his hands over Stiles' thighs, working out knots as he presses at the muscles. Stiles relaxes incrementally, tightening up or twitching whenever Victoria changes techniques. By the time Chris makes it down to his feet, Stiles is slipping under, melting into the bed.

"Can you hear me, Stiles?"

"Yeff, fir," Stiles says around the gag. Chris nods, and Victoria reaches up to unbuckle the gag.

"I'm taking this out," she says slowly. "You may speak if you need to. Then, Chris will remove the cuffs."

"Fan' oo," Stiles says, working his jaw as she pulls it out.

Chris undoes the restraints and helps him rearrange across Victoria's lap.

"You'll get the usual twenty," Victoria says, rubbing her hand over his ass. She looks at Chris, and he nods. As much as he hates to admit it, Stiles seems to need the pain tonight. "Ten for warm up, ten for training. Do you have anything you want to say?"

"May I have more?" Stiles whispers, face against the bedding. "Please?"

"If you promise to explain in the morning," Victoria says. "I want to know what got you like this."

"Yes ma'am."

"Thirty, then. Count."

Victoria begins the steady process of warming him up, making sure her blows land consistently and safely. Chris puts the toys away, tossing a couple into the container to be washed before he sits near Stiles' head.

"N-nine. May I hold you, sir?"

Chris cards a hand through Stiles' sweat-slick hair. "You may."

"Ten, thank you." Stiles wraps his arms around Chris' leg and rests his head on his thigh. Eleven shakes through him, and he gasps out a moan. "Ele-ven."

"That's it, just breathe." Chris moves his hand to the back of Stiles' neck, anchoring. "Deep breaths. Relax into it."

Victoria starts to focus on one side and then the other, working color into Stiles' flesh as she reminds him where he is and who he belongs to. By twenty, Stiles has stopped counting.

He's sobbing into Chris' leg, huge, hot tears flowing unendingly even as he pushes his ass up into Victoria's touch. The moment she hesitates, he starts mumbling "green" over and over through his tears.

"Keep going," Chris says quietly. "This is what he needed."

Stiles quiets by thirty, the tears still falling even as his breath evens out. Chris helps ease him off of Victoria's lap to the center of the bed.

"Don't go," Stiles whispers, holding on for dear life.

"I would never leave you," Chris says, pressing kisses to Stiles tear-damp cheeks, his reddened eyes, his bitten-bruised lips. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

Victoria turns out the overhead light and crawls into bed. Stiles shifts to pillow his head on her chest, weakly dragging Chris behind him.

"Stay?"

Victoria kisses the top of his head. "Always, baby boy. We're right here for you.”

He falls asleep moments after the promise, hiding from the world between his lovers.

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr [here.](theeloquentdecadent.tumblr.com) My tumblr is just as not safe for work as my writing is.


End file.
